Because 20 minutes later, something even stranger happened. A tow truck pulled up outside my house, and the driver walked straight into my garage like he had permission.
"Yeah," he said, looking at the boot. "Hot order. We're taking the truck."
I crossed my arms. "You planning to steal a vehicle from private property?"
The driver hesitated. Karen suddenly reappeared behind him like she had been waiting around the corner.
"Go ahead," she told him. "The HOA authorized it."
The driver scratched his head. "Ma'am, but garages are usually off-limits."
Karen pointed straight at me. "He's violating community rules."
The driver looked back at me. "Sir, if I hook it up, it's a $1,200 release fee."
I nodded. "Go ahead."
Karen smiled like Christmas came early. But the driver still looked unsure.
"You sure about this?" he asked me quietly.
I pulled my phone out and opened a message. "Yeah," I said. "Because the people who trained me to deal with situations like this should be here any minute."
Karen laughed. "Who? Your lawyer?"
I shook my head. "No." Then I looked straight at her. "The state licensing investigators for property management companies."
Her smile froze. And the tow truck driver slowly stepped back from my truck.
Because the moment Karen broke into my garage and put that boot on, she didn't just mess with the wrong homeowner—she messed with the one guy in the neighborhood who knew exactly how HOA companies lose their licenses.
Karen's smile faded for a second, but she quickly forced it back like nothing had happened. "Oh, please," she said, waving her hand like I had just told a joke. "You think calling some office is going to scare me?"
I leaned against my workbench and looked at the tow truck driver. "You might want to wait a few minutes," I told him calmly.
The driver looked between me and Karen like he had walked into a family argument he didn't want to be part of. "Ma'am, are you sure this is legal?" he asked her quietly.
Karen's voice got sharp immediately. "I am the HOA compliance officer," she snapped. "Do your job."
That title caught my attention. Compliance officer? That was funny, because I had attended exactly one HOA meeting after moving in, and that position didn't exist on their board list.
The driver still didn't move. "I just don't want trouble," he muttered.
Karen pulled out her phone and started recording again. "Look, everyone," she said loudly, like she was already talking to social media. "Homeowner refuses to follow community rules and is now threatening enforcement staff."
I shook my head slowly. "You broke into my garage," I reminded her.